Princess of the Dark
by pdljmpr6
Summary: Abby hadn’t questioned it when he’d pushed his small overnight bag into the trunk of her car. Gibbs wondered if it was b/c she knew there was no point in arguing, or b/c she'd always known he'd come. He liked to think it was the latter. Gabby friendship
1. Louisiana?

**A/N:** This was originally written to follow 'Let Your Fingers Do the Talking' but that does not need to be read before this for this one to be understood. I've been wanting to do an Abby/Gibbs friendship piece muliti-chap for some time now, so I'm finally giving it a go. Okay so if you're enjoying the fic and feel so inclined, do tell me what you thought. In any case, enjoy! -pj

"Abby," Gibbs said in that tone that meant he really didn't have time for one of her characteristic caffeine-included tangents.

"You don't need to know that. Right," she turned back to her computer and typed a few keys, "so anyway, I ran the prints you found on the condom wrapper-"

"Uh-oh, unopened," everyone glanced back to see Tony holding up an evidence bag containing a small foil square, "well, getting murdered does tend to dampen the mood a bit."

He looked up and saw four sets of eyes staring at him, the cobalt blue pair boring into his head with patented exasperation.

Tony dropped the bag back onto the table with a muttered, "sorry Boss."

"Anyway, I ran the prints through AFIS," Abby continued, smiling at Tony's antics, "and I got a hit."

She sat back and crossed her arms in satisfaction as Gibbs, McGee and Ziva leaned in closer to read the name flashing at the bottom of the screen.

"Roy Carlton." Ziva murmured.

"That's the same last name as the victim," McGee observed, "A relative?"

"What were a _male_ relative's fingerprints doing on a condom at our _female_ victim's house?" Ziva wrinkled her nose.

"That is so _Deliverance,_" Tony muttered. At that moment a shrill ringing filled the lab and Abby's reached for her cell phone.

"Address Abs?" Gibbs prompted.

"Yeah. Right," she distractedly pulled up the information on the fingerprint while frowning at her caller id. "504…that's New Orleans," she said to herself and glanced up. "McGee could you…" she indicated he should print the information on the screen and he nodded, taking over at the keyboard.

Abby stepped away from the group, ignoring the pointed stare Gibbs was sending in her direction, "This is Abby."

"Tony, take Ziva and check out Roy Carlton," Gibbs ordered, handing the printed sheet of paper to his senior field agent. A few feet away Abby's tone change and a whispered 'oh my god' had him glancing in her direction.

"McGee, you talk to the victim's CO. Find out what she was working on, classified or not."

"…okay. No, I understand…"

Gibbs wasn't the only one who'd picked up on the sudden change in Abby and the team didn't immediately move after receiving instructions. Ziva glanced at her other teammates, but all the men had their gazes planted firmly on Abby's back.

"…thank you. I mean, thank you for calling not…yeah…"

She was talking even quieter than before but with the only noise in the room being the gentle whirr of Major Mass-spec and the ticking clock on the far wall, they heard her soft, gravely voice with ease.

"…Okay…I'll be there."

She hung up her phone and stood still for several seconds with her back to the team.

"Gibbs?"

He was already standing beside her, but if he hadn't been the shock and anguish expressed in that single syllable would have been enough to have him across the room in seconds.

"Abby?" He asked, concern hidden somewhere in his carefully neutral voice.

She wasn't looking at him, but if it was possible her face was even more pale than usual and her wide, blank eyes were moving about like she was trying to comprehend something that just didn't make sense.

"I…I think I need to sit down," as if to prove her point she swayed slightly in her three inch platforms and Gibbs reflexively grabbed her upper arms as Tony quickly wheeled over a chair.

"Abs?"

Ziva, McGee and Tony were gathered as well, worry plastered across all their faces as they waited for an explanation but Abby suddenly seemed uncomfortable with all the attention.

"Don't you three have work?" Gibbs said, his voice quiet and his eyes never leaving Abby's face. Although it came out as a question, the three agents knew it was not.

"Boss…" Tony protested weakly. He'd never seen Abby like his and he was afraid to admit how much it worried him.

"Now, DiNozzo," Gibbs glanced up, his tone leaving no room for argument and his expression telling Tony he'd take care of it. Whatever _it _turned out to be.

After brief hesitation Tony nodded and turned to leave the lab, followed slowly by Ziva and, after giving his friend a quick squeeze on her shoulder, McGee also made his way out.

Even when they were gone Abby didn't relax fully and Gibbs raised his hand, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Who was on the phone Abby?" He asked softly.

Abby took a deep breath, "That was All Saint's Hospital in New Orleans," she said haltingly, her voice thick with un-shed tears. Gibbs felt his stomach clench with foreboding but waited for her to finish before jumping to conclusions. She swallowed hard, her hands clamped together tightly in her lap, "my brother. He…there was a car accident. There was a...drunk driver."

Gibbs resisted the immediate urge to pull her up into his arms, knowing what was coming even before she'd finished. He dropped his hand to cover hers, squeezing gently.

"Gibbs…he's gone," she finally looked up, her green eyes shining in the soft light of her lab, "they want me to come identify the…the body."

She shook her head slightly in disbelief and then lunged forward, wrapping her arms securely around his neck and pressing her face to his shoulder. Gibbs stood and pulled her close, hugging her tightly. Her body shook with silent sobs and he could feel the warm tears soaking through to his skin but he didn't speak, merely stroked the back of her head and rocked her soothingly, his gut twisting with pain of loss that he knew too well.

_TBC_


	2. Her Team

**A/N:** Holy cow! I was overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter, apparently, Gabby is the way to go! I mean, sure, a few were dissappointed that it's friendship and not romance, but I mean, Gabby is Gabby, yes? lol. So here is the next chap, hope it continues to live up to expectations and all that and let me know what you think. Enjoy! -pj

---

"Do you think she will be alright?" Ziva asked quietly once the elevator doors had closed between them and the lab.

Tony shrugged, "Something sure shook her up."

McGee remained silent, staring with a worried frown at the silver doors, waiting for them to open on the Squad Room.

"What do you think is wrong?"

"Don't know," Tony said helpfully, "but Boss'll find out," he said confidently.

And it was enough, so the three exited the elevator on the second floor and got to work on their assignments.

---

"Abby," Gibbs said a few minutes later, pulling away so he could look her in the face, "why don't you take the rest of the day?"

She immediately shook her head, braided pigtails swinging from side to side as she pulled away from his arms. She wiped her eyes quickly and returned to her computer.

"I'm still waiting on the results from the Mass-spec for the white powder we found all over the victims clothes, I need to run ballistics on the gun you found at the crime scene and the DNA isn't going to process itself." Abby rattled off her to-do list for the day with her usual enthusiasm but with a noticeably more dampened tone, staring blankly at the screen as she did so, still flashing a green 'match' alert on the fingerprint.

"Abby," Gibbs said and she could't hold back a wince. How he managed to fit so much meaning into a single word, she'd never know. The way he said her name just now managed to convey annoyance, worry, understanding, tolerance and impatience all at the same time.

"Please Gibbs," she said, turning to him, all pretense of normalcy vanished, "I can do this. I need to do this. I've got to start making arrangements and calls tonight but at least let me finish what I came here to do today."

She couldn't honestly explain what it was that terrified her so much about leaving now. As if disrupting her routine would somehow make the news of her brother's death much more real than it already was. And it was real, her nausea and the ringing in her ears made sure she knew that.

Gibbs studied her for several minutes from across the room, weighing her request to stay against his gut telling him it was best for her to make her go. Finally, the pleading look in Abby's eyes won out and he nodded.

"But you're out of here at five o'clock on the dot. Understood?"

She nodded adamantly and turned back to the computer screen, despite the fact that she couldn't have told anyone what was on it to save her life in that moment. He stepped over to her and, dropping a kiss on her hair along with a quick, reassuring squeeze of her hand, he turned to leave.

Abby let out a long sigh when she heard the elevator doors ding and then shut outside the lab, but quickly straightened her posture and began her work with renewed vigor, determined to prove Gibbs was right to let her stay.

---

"Boss?"

Tony and Ziva had coincidentally met up with McGee while parking the cars and the three were barely off the elevator and into the Squad Room when Tony's hesitant call reached Gibbs' ears.

The younger agent was fully expecting one of Gibbs' usual 'you better have a good reason for interrupting me' stares as he and his teammates all came to a stop in front of his desk. But today, he didn't care. Abby had been more than a little strange that morning he'd decided, after stewing over her behavior for the entire morning.

Gibbs did give him the stare, but it wasn't as harsh as it could have been. He slipped his reading glasses off his nose, "sitrep?"

Tony pursed his lips to keep a head-slap-worthy comment from slipping out and shifted his posture to be slightly less demanding.

"Roy Carlton wasn't at home and he hasn't been to work since Tuesday. I've got a BOLO out on him and his car."

McGee stepped in immediately after Tony stopped talking, knowing that the sooner they updated Gibbs' the sooner he would return the favor, "The CO wasn't happy about it but he gave me details about PFC Carlton's last assignment," he held up a thin manila folder for Gibbs to see.

Gibbs nodded and took the folder to begin reading, but the team didn't move from their spot in front of his desk.

"Gibbs," Ziva said, not even waiting for him to put his reading glasses back on, "what's going on with Abby?"

Gibbs shook his head, "she's going out of town tomorrow. Family business to take care of."

"What kind of family business?" Tony probed.

Gibbs looked at him, clearly not intending to answer.

"It's not good, is it?" McGee asked, his voice sounding uneasy.

"Well, I don't know, McGee. You were there this morning, what do you think?" Gibbs asked sarcastically.

The youngest agent pursed his lips and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his boss' outburst.

"Very bad then."

Gibbs gave a barely distinguishable nod and dropped his eyes back to his paperwork. The team exchanged looks and then, as if communicating silently, and knowing them, perhaps they were, they all returned to their desks, dropped their things backpacks, and moved back toward the elevator.

Gibbs' first instinct was to stop them. Make them finish up on their leads, check the BOLO at least, first. But he didn't. Partially because he knew none of them would get anything done while they were worrying about Abby, and partially because if Abby had taught him anything, it had been that family came first.

He couldn't stop a small smile born of pride from kicking up the corner of his mouth as he watched them all leave.

---

The knock on her door that evening had not been unexpected. It was just a matter of who would be on the other side. The team, her three musketeers, had been by to see her that afternoon and she'd told them her news.

McGee had been sympathetic and sensitive, as she'd known he would be, and he showed up every twenty minutes like Swiss clockwork for the rest of the day with one lame excuse or another to keep her company. It was a little annoying, but entirely flattering and she'd given him a hug each and every time he was within arms reach.

Tony had immediatly kicked into Overprotective Older Brother mode and given her his 'serious eyes' the ones he'd given her through the entire Mawer investigation only slightly gentler this time. He'd even offered to talk about it with her, and the uncharacteristic sinceraty of his offer had almost caused Abby to burst into tears right then and there.

And then there was Ziva. She'd been silent the entire time, but after the boys left she'd suddenly reached out and crushed Abby to her with a hug, something she'd never done before, and began mumbling things in Hebrew that Abby didn't know the meaning of, but understood completely. She did cry that time.

Abby reached for the door and opened it slowly.

"Gibbs," she said with a small smile that came nowhere near her eyes. She turned away, allowing him to let himself in.

As he was shutting the door Gibbs spotted a packed suitcase on the floor nearby. It was vintage nineteen fifties and not really Abby's style and he guessed it was something her mother had given her to use when she left for college that Abby never got around to giving back.

He looked up and saw she had made her way back over to the couch, legs folded underneath her and her hands wrapped around a small glass tumbler of scotch.

On the table there was an address book, a phone book and about a dozen wadded up tissues alongside her cordless phone.

"All done?" he asked, indicating the mess on the table.

"Yeah," Abby nodded, the pigtails she'd not bothered to take out yet bobbed up and down, "thank God."

Gibbs caught the muttered two words as he slipped out of his coat and his gut twisted a little bit tighter.

"I would have helped you with that," he said, and Abby knew he meant it. Gibbs knew how hard it was to inform strangers of a death in their family and he knew it was a hundred times worse when it was your own. He hated the idea of his Abby having to go through that, alone no less.

She shook her head this time, her eyes traveling back to stare blankly at the muted television.

"No, they deserved to hear it from me."

Gibbs pursed his lips but didn't respond. He wasn't so sure about that. He knew Abby came from a rather large family and that the majority of them had never really been a part of her life, always keeping their distance from the 'deaf ones and their weird kids'.

Not waiting for an invitation, he came to sit beside her on the couch, close to her but not quite close enough to be touching.

She felt strangly numb, though perhaps that was the Scotch talking, and it was as if she hardly knew he was there. But the sense of strength and security that seemed to linger about him, and cascaded over her when he was near, confirmed his presense to her subconcious mind and she allowed herself to relax a little and shifted position, causing their upper arms to touch.

"Still gotta tell Gloria," she said after a moment. Gibbs looked over at her and she took a slow sip of her drink, still staring blankly ahead, "didn't want one of the nurses to tell her," she smiled and Gibbs almost winced. It wasn't a good smile, "The thing is…I don't really want to tell her either."

"You don't have to," he said quietly, hating himself a little bit for suggesting it. But it wasn't as if her mother would know the difference, and if it would save Abby the heartache…

"Yes I do," she said, no hint of argument or protest in her tone. Merely stating a fact. She took another sip and Gibbs turned away, letting the subject drop.

"Is this a dirge?" He asked finally, referring to the slow, dramatic music emanating from the stereo on the other side of the room.

She nodded and sipped her drink, still looking as if those green eyes were registering nothing they passed.

"I kind of like this one. I played it before my father's funeral," she shrugged, looking down at her drink, "it's not like he or Mom could hear it, but I played it anyway. Bobby was only twelve but he liked it too, he said it sounded like dad."

Gibbs tilted his head to listen closer to the slow, somber tune. Heavy on the trumpets as most of Abby's 'back home' collection was, but deep and soulful, filled with strong melody from instruments he couldn't name. It sounded like an apology, a vow and acceptance. Sorry to be leaving, promising to always be nearby and wishing it wasn't but knowing leaving is inevitable.

He could see why Abby liked it.

"Christmas Carol?" He guessed after a few minutes of watching the muted television.

Abby nodded and answered his unasked question with simply, "Bobby's favorite."

Gibbs nodded and they lapsed back into silence. A few moments later Abby shifted and Gibbs wordlessly raised his arm, allowing her to lean into him and he dropped it again, wraping his arm around her. She could barely keep her eyes open and, after removing the half full glass of liquor that was threatening to spill from her lax grip, he gave her a gentle squeeze that told her to sleep and promised he would be there when she woke.

---

McGee was outside waiting to drive her to the airport the next day. Gibbs had nodded at him and Abby hugged him long and hard, "Thanks Tim" her only words so far that morning.

After they arrived Gibbs went to the trunk to pull out her bags. Abby hadn't questioned it when he'd pulled a small leather overnight bag out and set it next to hers. She'd hardly blinked when he placed plane tickets into his coat pocket along with his wallet.

Gibbs wondered if it was because she knew there was no point in arguing, or that she'd always assumed he'd come. He liked to think it was the latter.

"Tony and Ziva couldn't come, paperwork from the Carlton arrest. They had to transfer him to the County Penn," he apologized but Abby waved him off.

"It's fine. Tell them I'll see them on Monday when I get back."

McGee's eyes flickered to Gibbs and back again, "Monday? Abbs don't you think a couple days off would-"

He stopped when Abby immediately began shaking her head.

"My work is important, McGee. I'll be back just…" she paused, pursing her lips, "I'll be back."

She turned to retrieve her bags from the sidewalk and and strode purposefully into the airport, planting a quick kiss on Tim's cheek as she passed along with a promise to call when they landed.

"Boss I-" Tim began, worry creasing his forehead, Gibbs nodded, not even waiting for him to finish.

"I'll handle it, McGee," then he bent to pick up his own bag and raised an eyebrow at the younger man, "Sunday at 9:30."

McGee nodded, "we're all set."

Gibbs dipped his chin once in both approval and farewell, and strode into the airport.

---

Gibbs went on a coffee run while they waited to board the plane, Abby had her laptop out and was playing a game though, judging from the look on her face, her heart wasn't in it.

He nudged her gently while they were in line to board and she turned to him.

"How you doin'?" He asked softly, still looking straight ahead.

She stepped forward, handing her ticket to the woman at the counter.

"I'll be fine, Gibbs."

Gibbs distractedly handed over his own ticket as he watched Abby make her way down the tunnel. Between Tony, Ziva and now Abby, he was seriously considering calling up someone at Webster to tell them they'd gotten the definition of 'fine' wrong. Whenever someone on his team used the word '_fine'_ it definitely meant they weren't.

When the attendant gave him a nod he picked up his bag and followed Abby down the tunnel.

The plane ride had been spent in silence, Abby pretending to sleep while Gibbs finished a crossword puzzle from two weeks before. When the plane landed in Louisiana an hour later he'd turned on his phone long enough to check for messages but resisted the urge to call in. Tony was capable of handling anything that came up, he'd proven that when Gibbs was in Mexico and he would, no doubt, prove it again.

Besides, one glance at Abby, with bags under her eyes, a pale face and hair down in a low, uncharacteristic ponytail, convinced him that he was needed elsewhere.

"Ready to go?" Abby looked at him after collecting her bags from the claim area, her voice full of false cheer that fell far short of being believable.

Gibbs nodded, picking up his bag with one hand and squeezing Abby's shoulder with the other. He looked at her for a few seconds and Abby didn't even have the energy to protest the prolonged stare. He nodded again, as if in answer to a question that hadn't been asked aloud and pulled her close so her side was pressed against his.

"Yup. Let's go."

_TBC_


	3. Bobby

**A/N:** Well I completely and totally was ecstatic to read all the wonderful reviews from the last chap, even tho I made a lot of people sad, it's actually kind of great to know your so effected by the story. Here's the next chap and, btw, all the Gabby shippers, there's a little scene here just for you that could be read as budding romance if you want, even tho it was written as purely plutonic. Enjoy! -pj

---

"Tell me you're not staying in the same room," Abby said, when he came to a stop beside her in the small hotel hallway.

Gibbs half smiled, twirling his room key around his finger.

"Nope," he shook his head and then added, "The room next door."

Abby rolled her eyes and Gibbs was glad to see a flicker of her usual self, "yeah Gibbs, you're not overprotective or anything."

She pushed open the door and stepped inside and dumped her black bags on the double bed, resisting the urge to flop down beside them, curl up and never come out. That really wouldn't back up her 'fine' story, not that anyone was buying that particular item even on sale.

The room as a typical last minute find complete with a bed, lamp and table on either side, a small desk that she doubted was ever used and an armoire with a 30" television inside. She didn't even bother with the eye roll when she found a door on the wall that connected her room to Gibbs'.

A knock on the door and she went to pull it open, revealing Gibbs and his room, a mirror of her own, on the other side.

Without saying anything, she turned and allowed him to follow into her room, and dropped down on the edge of the bed with her eyes glued to the blank television.

Gibbs stood in the middle of the room, off to her right slightly, watching her closely and, for once, she didn't complain about his staring. When several minutes when by and she hadn't moved or spoken, he tilted his head toward the door.

"C'mon Abbs, we're going to get some food in you."

"Not hungry," she said, already standing and collecting her purse.

Gibbs nodded, "I know." He waited in the hall as she turned out her light and checked for her room key, and then walked beside her to the elevator, one hand on her shoulder as he guided her down the hall, "you're going to eat anyway."

He ushered her into the lift and Abby didn't protest, which worried him more than even her subdued behavior.

---

Abby stared down at her salad while Gibbs worked purposefully through a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

"Eat it Abs, don't just push it around on your plate."

"I told you I wasn't hungry," she replied petulantly, dropping her fork on the table and folding her hands in her lap.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows but didn't make any other comment, deciding not to push any further. Abby stared quietly out the window and Gibbs had almost finished before she spoke again. And when she did, she didn't look at him.

"It feels like," she paused, "like when Kate...when Ari killed her."

She glanced at Gibbs, and saw him press his lips together as the muscles in his jaw tightened. She shifted in her chair, "we were going to meet for Mardi gras this year," she continued quietly.

Gibbs took a deep breath and sat back from the table, Abby looked at him with the same pained, uncertainty on her face that he'd seen at Kate's funeral, and again at the director's. He knew she understood loss, even sudden loss.

But it was different this time. This time it was family.

She let her gaze slide back to the window and Gibbs caught the waiter's eyes, silently asking for a check. He stood and Abby followed, searching for his hand, clasping it tightly as they weaved through the tables toward the door.

And it occured to him that maybe it wasn't so different after all.

---

Abby stood outside the hospital morgue for several minutes while Gibbs was talking to the Coroner off to one side. She didn't hear what they said, she couldn't get her mind past the fact that through those doors, on the other side of the room in a refrigerator, was her baby brother.

Dead.

She visibly winced as the word flashed in her head and gripped her hands into tighter fists, still not moving. It wasn't that she was afraid to go in, she'd left her fear of Autopsy behind long ago. It was the fact that she knew, she just knew, the moment she went through those doors it would all become real. She wouldn't even have to see the body. His body. Just going inside the morgue, knowing he was there, lifeless and still, cold, it would mean this wasn't a nightmare she was going to wake up from in her own cozy coffin. It would mean her brother was gone.

Forever.

A warm hand on her back startled her and she jumped, nearly smacking her head on the doors, only to pull back as if afraid to touch them.

She turned her head, her hair was loose and down and it felt almost strange to push it behind her ear so she could look at him.

Gibbs had his head tilted slightly to one side, his large hand rubbing circles on her back.

"You ready?" He asked softly.

Abby shook her head 'no' and then pushed open the doors.

---

"He looks like he's sleeping."

Abby's whisper echoed off the concrete walls and she pursed her lips to keep more shaky words from falling out. She hugged her black-clad arms around herself, and it reminded Gibbs of the position assumed when trying to make oneself a smaller target, as she stared down at the face of her younger brother. He really did look like he was sleeping, except for being bloodless pale, of course.

Gibbs stood beside her, his jaw clenched and his hands hanging loosely at his sides. On the other side of the slab, the ME stood with a clipboard held tightly in her hands.

"So you confirm this is Robert Scuito?" The woman asked with a thick English accent, making a face that said she really hated asking such an obvious question. She was young, probably only a few years older than Abby, with dark skin and even darker hair.

Abby nodded and wiped quickly at her eyes before squinting down at the body, her eyes zeroing in on the red marks along his bare right shoulder.

"Seatbelt burns?" She asked, gesturing with her chin.

The ME nodded, "it kept him from going through the windshield but didn't do much more good than that I'm afraid. The driver was also wearing a belt, probably Mr. Scuito's doing, although asking for his keys might have been more beneficial."

Abby's eyes snapped up to the MEs and the woman's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry, I-I'm afraid spending most of my time with the deceased has drummed out of me the use of proper etiquette."

Abby all but ignored her apology, "I thought he was hit by a drunk driver." Gibbs glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and stiffened at the fury suddenly radiating off her.

The woman glanced down at her clipboard and shook her head, "no, I'm sorry, you were misinformed. He was _in _the car with the DD."

"He die too?" Abby asked, looking as if she wasn't quite sure she wanted to hear the answer. Gibbs narrowed his eyes, watching the exchange carefully.

"Um, no. Mr. Scuito was the only…no. The driver actually walked away relatively unscathed," she turned a sorrowful look down at the boy laying between them, "doesn't seem fair."

Abby straightened, her eyes flickered with recognition, "what kind of car was he in?"

The ME gave her an odd look and Abby closed her eyes briefly, gathering her patience and a reasonable excuse for her question, "I'm a forensic scientist, please details…details help me deal."

The woman considered this and then, "a red sedan. A Chrysler Sebring."

Abby's mouth dropped open slightly and Gibbs watched her eyes fall to Bobby's face, a look of horror and disbelief written in her eyes.

"Oh Bobby," she whispered, shaking her head and storming out of the room.

"What was that all about?" The ME asked after silence again descended.

Gibbs glanced at the ME and then turned to leave, following the way Abby had gone.

He found her at the end of the hall, pacing back and forth in the shadows of the basement steps, illuminated in the red glow of an 'Exit' sign.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Gibbs tilted his head to one side, Abby's voice didn't sound like her own. He'd heard Abby angry, he'd heard her upset and scared...he'd never heard her when she was ready to break.

"No, no Aunt Eileen. I don't want him there."

He almost winced at the venom in her tone and racked his memory for any previous mention of this 'Aunt Eileen' as he began to close the distance between them. He didn't find any.

"Listen to me, I don't want _him _at my brother's funeral. Okay? You will _not _bring him, that's all there is to it."

She slammed her phone shut and stood with her back to him, head bowed and arms crossed over her chest, breathig heavily. Gibbs stopped a few feet behind her, close enough for her to know he was there and to acknowledge him if that was what she wanted.

Abby finally sighed and turned around, facing him. Gibbs almost caught his breath. If he'd thought she hadn't sounded like herself, he thought she looked like herself even less. It wasn't just the lack of pigtails and slightly oversized black sweatshirt. It wasn't even the fact that she wore no makeup and her cheeks were red and splotchy. It was the vacant look in her eyes that got to him, and the raw greif behind it.

Unable to hold his gaze, Abby blinked a few times against rebellious tears and looked down.

"I want to go home, Gibbs...to my real family," she whispered, biting her lip

Instantly Gibbs' face softened and he pulled her to him in a hug. He resisted the urge to ask her to explain the phone call, the father in him telling him it was not the time, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Soon, Abbs. I promise."

---

Gibbs lay awake late into that evening reading, glasses perched on the end of his nose with the bedside lamp switched on. It was almost two in the morning when he finally closed his book, setting aside his glasses and rubbing his face tiredly before shutting off the light.

He was toying with the idea of dreams when his ears perked at the sound of the doorknob turning opened his eyes to see the door that connected his room to Abby's, left unlocked for just such an occasion, was being hesitantly pushed open.

"Gibbs?" Abby's voice sounded small as it crossed the silence between them, "you awake?"

"Yeah," the quiet roughness of his voice indicated just how close to sleep he had been, and he turned so he was more facing the door.

He could see her hair was still down, she was dressed in a black camisole and red plaid pajama pants. She had a white knuckle grip on the doorknob and her teeth a death clamp on her bottom lip.

"Can I…um," she trailed off, looking uncertain and shy as her eyes roved about the room. She shifted on he feet, "could I just…"

Gibbs beckoned her with a quick nod of his head, "c'mere."

In seconds Abby had crossed the room and was climbing under the covers beside him. He could hear her sniffing and knew he hadn't imagined the sound of barely muffled sobs on the other side of the wall earlier that evening.

Abandoning all pretense of decorum Abby immediately slid across the bed and curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest. There was a part of her that knew she was a grown woman and told her she shouldn't need a Man Pillow to help get her through the night, but it was promptly silenced by the grieving sister in her that told it to 'shut the hell up'.

She wrapped her arms around Gibbs' waist but despite her exhaustion kept her eyes open and staring at the far wall. To sleep was to allow the sight of Bobby's pale, cold skin and drawn, expressionless face to enter her mind.

And that was what was keeping sleep from her in the _first _place.

That and the thought of the conversation she was going to have with her mother the next day.

"Gibbs I-," she said in a broken voice, immediately his arms encircled her, and his left hand began stroking her hair.

"Shh Abs," he whispered, soothingly, "get some sleep."

With a pathetic sniffle and a slight nod, Abby hunkered down beside him, determined to follow the gently made order.

_TBC_


	4. Quiet

**A/N: **Well here it is, the last chapter. I can't tell you how much I've appreciated everyone's reviews and support. This fic was angsty and hard but I think we all enjoyed it in the end. Thanks again for everyone who read and reviewed! Enjoy! - pj

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Gibbs glanced over at Abby, it was the first she'd spoken all morning, and shifted in his seat, the small sedan they'd rented did not exactly stand up to the standard set by his Challenger or the NCIS fleet vehicles.

"I wouldn't say 'crazy', Abbs. Eccentric sometimes. A little off-kilter maybe. Definitely unique. But not crazy."

There was a pause and a rustle of clothing as Abby turned away from the window and stared to Gibbs, but his straight face didn't falter and he continued to look out at the road ahead.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs...did you just make a funny?" She quirked her right eyebrow, slipping into their usual banter almost without thinking.

"Me? Nah. I don't have a sense of humor I am aware of," Gibbs replied, the corners of his mouth tilting upward.

Abby responded with a roll of her eyes and for a moment the silence that lingered between them was comfortable and light.

Slowly, though, she turned back to the window and Gibbs could almost see the melancholy fall back over her like a thick cloak.

"No, I mean for telling Gloria. Her mind is like Swiss cheese most of the time anyway. It's crazy of me to want to tell a sick woman her only son is dead, don't you think?"

Gibbs reached for the cup holder on the console between them to retrieve his coffee and took a sip before responding.

"I think you have a good reason for wanting to."

Abby nodded vigorously. Her pigtails were back, but parted low, tied off just behind her ears on each side.

"I do," she paused, "Gloria and Dan loved Bobby. I mean _loved _him…loved him like they never loved me," she shook her head. It wasn't said with bitterness or jealously, merely an uncensored truth between friends. Gibbs knew there had been hostility between the siblings growing up, but any of those negative feelings had been washed away long ago. "Not in the same way."

"Because he was deaf," Gibbs supplied, already knowing the answer.

Again, Abby nodded. She still wasn't looking at him but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of the tears gathering in her eyes, "he understood their world in a way I never could. A way I never wanted to."

She took a deep breath and pulled one black sleeve down over her hand so she could use it to dab at her eyes.

"I _have _to tell her, Gibbs," she told him vehemently, as if arguing a point, "she deserves to know. Bobby was her little boy…and if it were me, I would want to know."

---

"You okay?" Gibbs asked quietly, his somber tone matching the mood of the small, warmly decorated nursing home.

Abby didn't immediately respond. He laid his hand at her back and she jumped, whipping her head around to look at him. She swallowed a few times upon reading the question in his eyes then looked away, refusing to answer. She was both unable and unwilling to lie to his face.

"She in her room?" Abby's asked, her voice almost too low to hear.

Gibbs studied her closely, his piercing blue eyes roaming her face before he answered. He knew his Abby was strong, but he also knew that right now she was balancing precariously on the edge of her waning control. Had been for the past three days, and he was determined to be there when she finally fell.

"No. She's in the rec room."

Abby nodded, but continued staring blankly at the wide wooden doors that led into the residence.

"Did they tell her?"

"Nope," Gibbs shook his head, "but they've got her dressed, ready to go at four."

She nodded again and, after a few more moments, during which Gibbs watched her face cycle through anxious, uncertain, determined and overwhelmed several times, she started toward the doors. He followed a few paces behind, passing room after identical room, each occupied by someone who slept in a bed or a wheelchair, or who stared blankly at the wall. He got the distinct impression they were all waiting for something.

When they got to another set of double wooden doors, this set standing open, Abby stopped abruptly. There were windows on all three walls, bathing the room in sunlight and it was filled with mostly empty tables, as well as a few rocking chairs and a piano in the corner. Scattered among these were some of the residents who sipped coffee or chatted with visitors, the woman dressed in pearls and blouses that had surely been in fashion at some point in the past, and then men donned button up shirts and neat slacks. Also hovering around the room as well were a few of the staff who milled about gathering plates and handing out napkins.

"Gibbs," Abby said, her eyes locked onto her mother, who sat on the far side of the room in a chair next to the window, staring at the courtyard outside. He'd met Gloria several years before, a friend of his ex-wife's, but as he watched her from across the room, he was struck by how much that handful of years since they'd last met had aged her. He could see the resignation of her eyes, exhausted from spending so many years fighting to retain a mind, a memory, that was failing her.

"I need to, um…"

"I'll be here," he responded, not needing her to finish. Abby nodded mutely. She hesitated and then, tilting her chin up slightly, she strode across the room to kneel in front of her mother's chair.

_Gloria? _Abby furrowed her brows, _Mom it's me, Abby. You're daughter. Do you recognize me?_

Gibbs tilted his head when the older woman reached out to stroke Abby's cheek, but no spark of recognition was in her eyes. Her dark hair was pinned up neatly to the top of her hair and she was wore her best 'Sunday' dress, the one he bet she always wore on visitor's day.

_Mom, I have to tell you something important, _Abby took a deep breath and shifted on her knees. Gibbs could see her fighting to maintain control, _something very important about Bobby. _

Gloria immediately smiled at the sight of her son's name.

_Bobby comes to visit me every Sunday. Is he here?_

With her chin trembling and her eyes welling up with tears before she had a chance to forbid them, she shook her head.

_No, he's not coming today. Bobby's not going to be able to come see you anymore, Mom._

_Why not? He comes every Sunday. Such a good boy, my Bobby. I have a daughter too, you know. She doesn't come very often. She lives far away._

A sob broke from Abby's through and she covered her mouth, letting her head fall to her chest with her squeezed shut. Her shoulders shook and Gibbs took a step forward, but stopped when he saw the older woman reach out to her.

Abby gasped and looked up when she felt a touch on her shoulder. Her mother's face was both inquisitive and distressed.

_It's alright, I'm sure Bobby will be here. He always comes on Sunday. _

Abby shook her head again and held her mother's hands for a few moments before reluctantly releasing them to sign.

_Bobby's gone, Mom. Dead. I'm sorry. _

Gloria's face shifted from distraught to confused.

_Gone? _

Abby nodded, _Gone Mom. Like Daddy. Like your husband, Dan. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're…never going to see them again._

Gloria's face had gone blank and Abby watched closely, almost hopefully, to see if she'd understood.

_Mom do you…_

She was cut off by the swift, sound smack her mother delivered to her left cheek. Her eyes grew painfully wide and her mouth dropped open as she stared up at the other woman in shock.

_Bobby! _Gloria signed emphatically and opened her mouth to speak and only succeeded in delivering a few indecipherable sounds, _I want Bobby. Not you. You get out of here! You leave!_

Abby stood up, still in shock, as a few nurses brushed past her, attempting to calm the agitated and angry woman. She fought them, wishing to continue signing at Abby. When they attempted to keep her from lobbing a ceramic mug at the young woman she let out a guttural scream that made Abby jump, and she gasped, tears suddenly pouring down her cheeks. She turned and ran away from the nurses, past the tables and Gibbs only saw a blur of black as she flew past him out the door.

---

"Abby!" Gibbs shouted, but she made no indication of hearing him.

He found himself running full speed down the hallway after her, dodging nurses with food trays and patients in wheelchairs as he did so. Abby shot through the lobby and out the front doors leaving the receptionist to stare after her in curiosity. She finally slowed down when she got outside and propped herself up against the wall as her control finally abandoned her and the sobs took their place.

It wasn't the pretty sort of crying that was always in the movies, where the actresses hair never gets messed and there's always a tissue handy. But the deep, dark, heart wrenching, soul crushing sobs. Tears that flowed down her cheeks and into her mouth. Stung her eyes and blurred her vision. The kind that stop the world. That stop life, so that she couldn't find the air to breath or the strength to stand and she sank down into the cool, soft grass, scraping her skin against the rough bricks as she did so.

She felt lost and out of control and her body shook with fear that this was perhaps the end of the world, the end of everything.

Then two strong, steady hands wrapped around her, pulling her to a warm, hard surface. The smell of sawdust and old spice hit her and everything came flashing back.

"It's not fair Gibbs!" her shout was muffled by his shirt and his arms tightened around her. It almost felt safe.

"I know, Abbs."

She continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"Bobby shouldn't be dead. I shouldn't be going to his funeral today," she hit his arm and chest weakly with trembling fists to emphasize her words and he held her to him with one hand on the back of her head, "he should be coming to visit _her _today."

Gibbs didn't speak. Knew it was not his moment to do so. So instead he let her rant and vent her anger and grief, using him as a sounding board and a punching bag.

"When Mom came here, Uncle Bill and Aunt Eileen were all we had left. They were supposed to take care of him, Gibbs. When he started to drink I just knew something like this would happen. It should be _him _in that coffin!"

Abby was hardly coherent but Gibbs noted every word, his heart twisting at the guilt and remorse of her tone.

"I told him to stop, _begged _him to. He promised he would. And instead he got into that car with my baby brother next to him. He _had _to know he was drunk. Why didn't he stop Gibbs? Why didn't he think? He _killed _him!" She let her head fall back onto his shoulder as the sobs reclaimed her broken voice.

"He killed Bobby."

---

When Gibbs brought Abby back to the hotel after half an hour of consoling and calming her on the nursing home front lawn she dropped onto her bed, asleep before her cheek hit the pillow.

He watched over her for nearly an hour, sitting beside her on the bed, reading McGee's new book while stroking her head every now and then when her face would screw up with a frown.

After a while though, he grew restless and decided to go on a coffee run and pick up some food for Abby when she woke.

He knew the young scientist to be an extremely light sleeper and expected her to be awake and channel surfing when he returned. He was only slightly concerned to see she wasn't.

Still, he didn't think she'd gotten any rest in the past three days and decided to let her sleep until the last possible moment.

"Abbs," Gibbs said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and shaking her shoulder.

Abby's eyes flew open and Gibbs could see the ghosts of fitful sleep reflected in the green pools before she blinked them away.

"Gibbs?" she frowned at him and then at the clock, "how long did I sleep?"

He shook his head, deeming the answer unimportant, and brushed her hair off her forehead affectionately.

"A while," then he moved to stand, patting her arm as he did so, "c'mon. You need to eat and get dressed before we leave."

Gibbs was further unnerved when Abby proceeded to go through the entire 45 minutes it took her to pick at her food, tie up her hair in wrapped pigtails and put on a black dress and speak less than three words. While on any other day the silence would have been a welcome addition to his Unit in the Squad Room, today it was unwanted.

She wasn't Abby if she was quiet.

---

The cemetery was small and sprinkled throughout with weeping willows and blossoming dogwoods. It was at the peak of serenity on a Sunday afternoon, respectfully silent as it accepted another resident who'd left the world too soon. It was always too soon.

Gibbs stood by Abby's side during the funeral, offering his silent, unwavering support to her freely. Abby hadn't spoken since they left, forgoing even their brief car conversation for silence on the way to the cemetery and she'd been staring at the casket since the moment the funeral began. The priest, who'd hugged Abby before in a way that told Gibbs he'd known her family a long time, was still delivering his discourse when movement caught Gibbs' eye.

Coming up the slight hill to the procession was a couple. A man and woman that Gibbs didn't need to be introduced to in order to recognize them.

He glanced at Abby and, seeing that she was unaware of his movement, he silently slipped from the rather large gathering of people unnoticed, and intercepted the couple before they were even within earshot of the Priest's sermon.

The woman, a brunette with green eyes who wore a simple black dress with flats dropped her eyes from Gibbs' to the ground as he approached. The man was slightly shorter than his wife and balding. He wore a suit and black tie, a blue sling on his right arm and a bandage on his forehead.

"Uncle Bill, I presume," Gibbs said, coming to a stop in front of the pair.

The man narrowed his eyes.

"Do I know you?"

"Nope," Gibbs shook his head and then pointed toward the cars behind them, "but _I _know you're going to leave now."

Bill frowned and glanced, first at Gibbs, and then at the people gathered for the funeral. The time had come for close friends and family to step forward and lay roses on the coffin.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are but we've got a right to be at our nephew's funeral."

Gibbs' eyes hardened and he dropped his hand, taking a menacing step forward. His voice fell a few notches so that even the woman standing beside them had to strain to hear him.

"No, you don't. You forfeited that right when you got behind the wheel of a car, drunk, and allowed a minor to get in beside you."

Bill blinked at Gibbs, his face draining of color.

"Your niece asked you not to come, but I took a precautionary measure, just in case you decided to show up anyway," his eyes flicked over the man's shoulder and Bill turned in time to see an unmarked police car pull up beside his sedan and two Uniforms get out and look over in their direction.

Bill turned back and Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Give your nephew the respect he deserves by turning yourself in without making a scene," Gibbs said quietly, though the dark look in his eyes plainly stated that, if Bill _did _decide to make a scene, Gibbs was more than capable of handling that as well.

There was silence for a few moments during which the injured man's resolve weakened and his shoulders slumped. He threw one last glance past Gibb's at the funeral and his eyes landed on a pale face in the crowd of black.

He sighed, "tell Abby, I'm sorry," then he turned and walked back down the hill toward the LEOs. The woman, Aunt Eileen, lingered a moment longer, staring silently at the figure at the top of the hill, remorse and regret plastered across her features, before turning to follow her husband.

Gibbs waited until Bill had gotten into the squad car and been driven off before facing Abby. She was almost alone on the hill now, the rest of the mourners had left for the wake. Neither moved for several moments and Gibbs steeled himself for Abby's wrath. He wasn't sure if he'd stepped over a line, but if he had, he was prepared to deal with the consequences, but he wasn't going to take what he'd done back.

Abby's eyes locked with Gibbs and she lifted one hand to her chin, her fingertips touching it and then falling away.

_Thank you._

Gibbs gave a slight nod and then jerked his head for her to come down. She did, and they turned to follow the upbeat jazz music that floated toward them on the gentle afternoon breeze.

---

Abby didn't come home often. At least, not to her parent's home specifically. She came back for Mardi Gras every year but usually stayed in a hotel or with her Aunt and Uncle and Bobby.

The house she'd grown up in, a classic southern style estate her father had inherited, was too big and empty for her to stay in all by herself. Too filled with memories. But sometimes, when she was back visiting, she would come here. She would look at the house, look at all the windows and stand under the tree by the pond. She never went inside, but when she was feeling especially nostalgic she would go around back and sit on the big white porch swing and watch the ducks on the water and daydream.

So when the crowded atmosphere and too many 'I'm sorry's began to get the best of her inside, it was on that same porch swing where she sought refuge.

"You found me," she didn't look over as Gibbs exited the back door, the creaky hinges ruining the effect of his silent footfalls.

"Mm-hm," he nodded, handing her a mug of coffee and setting down beside her.

She raised the mug to her lips and sipped carefully, "I love this swing."

Gibbs 'ah'ed at the end of his sip and looked around. From his seat he had a perfect view of the tree and pond, as well as the meadow that stretched out beyond it and a treeline in the distance.

"I can see why."

Abby nodded and took another careful sip, the breeze cooling the hot liquid for her.

"Any word from DC? Any new cases?"

Gibbs stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, "nope."

Abby narrowed her eyes at him, "there is isn't there? The guys are working a new case and there's some temp in _my _lab using _my _babies," she accused.

Gibbs smiled at her, "I'm sure they're all fine, Abbs."

Abby didn't share Gibb's certainty but the matter drop. Idly she found herself wishing for the comfort of her lab and hoped they'd gotten Dr. Vargas to temp. He at least knew to put things back in her cabinets exactly as he found them, and he did alright with Major Mass Spec's temper tantrums most of the time as well.

She sighed deeply and Gibbs lifted his arm, Abby immediately snuggled into his side.

"Gibbs?"

He turned his head so his lips were resting on her hair, "yeah?"

"Why did Bobby get in that car?"

He inhaled sharply and shifted slightly before. He slowly turned his head to plant a kiss on her hair and began stroking the back of her head absently, staring out over the water as he searched for an adequate way to answer her.

"I don't know, honey," he whispered, "but he didn't deserve what he got."

Abby shook her head, still tucked safely under Gibbs chin, and distracted herself from tears by picking microscopic lint off his lapel.

"I miss the others," she said after a moment, "Tony, McGee, Ziva, Ducky. I wonder what they're doing right now."

Gibbs tensed slightly and Abby pulled away from him.

"What?"

He shrugged, "what what?"

"Gibbs you better-"

"Holy crap, somebody pinch me. I've teleported to 1955 Greenbow, Alabama."

Abby's eyes flew up to the back door and watched as a very familiar face, which was pressed up against the screen, pulled back and opened the door to walk out.

"Tony!" She launched herself from the swing and into the man's arms. Tony grinned and caught her effortlessly, wrapping her in a hug.

"Hey Abbs," he set her back on her feet and Abby opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Do step aside Anthony and let an old man have a turn."

Abby gasped and pulled away from Tony to look behind him.

Her grin brightened ten fold.

"Ducky! Ziva, Mcgee! You're all here," she threw herself into each of their arms in turn, "I didn't know you were coming."

"Well, that was the Boss' idea, he didn't want to get your hopes up in case we couldn't make it." Tony informed her helpfully.

Abby turned a quick glare at Gibbs and punched him in the shoulder.

"Not nice Gibbs."

He humored her with an apologetic look.

"We're sorry we couldn't be here earlier Abby, we had a case to finish," McGee said and was a little stunned to see Abby whirl around and land another solid punch on Gibbs' shoulder.

"Hey, Abby!" Gibbs cried indignantly.

"You said there was no case," she informed him, not the least bit remorseful, and turned back around, grinning brightly at her teammates.

Tony took a step forward and touched her cheek, "how you doin?", he asked quietly, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

Abby gave him a small smile and flashed it quickly at the others, who each wore eager expressions telling of a weekend's worth of worrying about their favorite Forensic Scientist.

She shrugged, "it'll get better. It always does."

They all nodded in understanding and an awkward silence ensued, which Ziva took the liberty of breaking.

"This is, um…for you," she held out a stainless steel canister.

"Um, wow. Thanks Ziva. A thermos," she gave her friend a confused smile.

Ziva rolled her eyes, "not the container, Abby. What's inside."

Abby's eyes narrowed and she untwisted the cap, immediately recognizing the smell of the beverage inside.

"Caf-Pow!" She grinned and wrapped a stunned Ziva in another hug, "thank you Ziva. They don't have that here."

Ziva nodded her head once, "yes. We thought you might be going through overhaul."

"Withdrawal, Zeevah," Tony corrected, "Ow!" He threw a wounded look at Abby who was glaring at him.

"You wanna correct somebody, correct yourself. It's Louisiana, not Alabama, there's a big difference."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "oh c'mon. You got to admit this place looks a lot like it."

Abby rolled her eyes and moved back to take her seat beside Gibbs and McGee sat on the other side of her with Ziva and Tony taking their places leaning against the banister and Ducky pulled up a chair to sit beside them.

They all waited while Abby took several sips from her thermos. She 'ah'ed in a very Gibbs-like 'manner and grinned.

"Good stuff."

They all smiled at her reaction and Tony became aware of Gibbs gaze on his skin.

"What?" He asked, as innocently as possible, wondering if there was any way his boss could know he'd used his computer while he was gone. He had been thousands of miles away afterall...

Everyone turned to Gibbs and Tony to see the older man pinning the younger with a thoughtful, almost puzzled look.

"Greenbow?"

Tony's face split with a relieved grin and Abby almost choked on her Caf-Pow!.

"Alabama. Gibbs, Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks?" She tried.

"Yeah, you know Boss, 'Momma always said life was like a box of chocolates'," McGee said, raising his eyebrows.

"It's a rather interesting commentary on several aspects of American society," Ducky added, "and a hell of a movie as well."

Gibbs' expression remained blank.

"Run Forrest, Run!" Ziva said in her best 'distraught Jenny' voice. Everyone turned to look at her and she shrugged, "what? We have movies in Israel."

Gibbs smiled and shook his head.

"You all need lives," he sipped his coffee to hide his grin. The voices of Tony, Ziva, McGee, Abby and Ducky all overlapped one another as they each uniquely but equally loudly protested. In amongst the snorting and eye rolling, arguments of 'pot calling kettle black' and 'it's a classic' could be heard.

Gibbs called on all his reserves of training to keep a straight face and take it like a Marine.

The quiet was gone and, for now, he was glad.

They weren't his team if they were quiet.

END


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